


Sick Supervillain

by Kuronrko98



Series: Collective AUs [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Illnesses, Jay has the flu, do not copy to another site, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuronrko98/pseuds/Kuronrko98
Summary: Scout has news for an old friend on the wrong side of their new line of work, but there's at least one surprise waiting in the lair known as the Campus.





	Sick Supervillain

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write this a long time ago oh my god, I'm so sorry. This was a request from back in December and I've had it two paragraphs from being done since the new year. So, it's here, and I made it a lot longer than I probably needed to.
> 
> But, yeah, this is a prompt sent in from [thewriterinprogressblog](http://thewriterinprogressblog.tumblr.com) on tumblr!

“Is there something I can do for you, Scout?”

I jump back so fast I crack my head against the wall.

A sleek, silver android stands in the middle of the hallway, hands in a polite clasp in front of it and one of those passive aggressive smiley emoticons on the sloped screen where its face should be. It doesn’t look like it might attack, but I’ve called the intentions of Jay’s creations wrong before.

“Or would you prefer Sawyer?” it asks in a pleasant replica of some 50’s housewife as-seen-on-TV. “I should know these things, however my data is inconsistent.”

“Scout’s fine.” I probe at the back of my head and, yeah, that’s gonna hurt for a few days. “What are you supposed to be, security?”

“I am the Campus caretaker. Ordinarily, the Professor would greet you personally, but—” It turns its head away a fraction and a sweatdrop appears on its screen. I wonder if it’s only an illusion of being apologetic or if it’s sincere. “—they are indisposed.”

I pause.

The android waits patiently, the smile that must be its default back in place. It doesn’t try to stop me from peering past it, but all I see is another set of hallways. I don’t want to test the boundaries of what it would allow me to do, though, so I rock back on my heels.

If Jay’s crazy enough to let heroes waltz into their base without a fight, I might as well use it to my advantage.

“Can you take me to them?” I ask.

“Just a moment.” It tilts its head with a question mark on its screen. I keep my eyes on it, still unsure if the thing’s safe. True to its word, it doesn’t take long for a full grin to take the question mark’s place. “Follow me, the Professor will see you.”

It turns without another word. I keep close to its side while we walk. When I flick a glance at it, I find a timer counting down about ten minutes. If it was anyone other than Jay—the Professor, I guess—I would be nervous about that. I don’t think they would risk blowing their own base sky high just to take an intruder out.

But, you know. I’ve misread their intentions before.

“So, what if they hadn’t agreed to see me?” I ask lightly.

“There are other activities on Campus for you to see, if you would have liked.” Its hands clasp in front of it again, and I Don’t Like how that looks while they’re walking. “You could have chosen to sit in on a class, visit a lab, browse the library—any number of diverting possibilities would be open to you to experience.”

“Jay would let a hero walk into their labs?” I don’t know how they’ve kept from being shut down for so long. “Just, free roam of the place?”

The android chortles, and that’s not a good effect.

“Oh, no. I have orders to release security bots if a hero approaches Campus.”

I have to question the validity of that, but it leads me around a corner out of the enclosed, nondescript hallways and into a vast courtyard. Something different than ivy climbs the walls on all sides. Vines too large to be natural, scarlet fruit the size of my head dotting the brick walls.

More androids mill around, mingling with a mix of humans. Some of them stop their conversations to watch the caretaker lead a known hero down the middle of the path, but no one makes a move to stop me. No one looks hurt or upset. No one here seems to be in danger. It looks like…

Well, it looks like a college campus.

I finally manage to turn my eyes back on the caretaker. “Why let _me_ in, then?”

“You,” it says simply, “are an exception.”

“That’s helpful,” I mutter. It laughs but doesn’t say anything else.

Right on time, when the timer on its forehead reaches zero, the caretaker stops in front of a frosted glass door. A plaque reading _‘Professor’_ hangs above it. I can’t fault them for being who they are, I suppose.

“Here we are.” It taps an electronic pad and the door swings open. “I do apologize for the inconvenience. You will see why they could not meet you upon your arrival, and I hope you will forgive us for your lost time.”

“It’s fine,” I say automatically. “Really, I expected to have to fight my way here, so I appreciate the service.”

Faint blush marks appear on the caretaker’s screen. It waves a hand. “The Campus is a place of learning, you wouldn’t have—that is to say, I am only doing my duty in ensuring all sanctioned visitors have a pleasant stay.”

Either Jay made a breakthrough in artificial sentience, or they need to stop giving their AI’s so many human attributes. I shake my head and leave it in the hallway. The door closes behind me, and I know what’s holding them up before I either see or hear them.

Jay has never been a clean or neat person. I can’t really talk shit, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was why they started fiddling with their robots in the first place. Gotta get someone to clean up the mess. Their mad scientist shtick kind of falls apart if they can’t keep those lab coats dry cleaned.

The desk is about as haphazard as I would expect, can’t let anyone mess with that. Most everything else is clean, little robots working even now to wipe possible dust from frames and crumbs on the floor.

So, it doesn’t take an expert to smell the must, watch a speeding bot carry a basket of used tissues one direction while another zips the other way with a fresh box, and realize there’s a sick person around.

“You’d better not say a _word_ ,” a congested groan rises from an open door to the left.

I consider taking the chance to snoop around their desk, but I’m not down to lose a hand today. I sigh and move to the doorway.

Jay is _fucked up_.

They literally hug the toilet bowl, though they still glare at me. I doubt they’ve moved in a while, not with the feverish look in their eyes. I don’t expect them to do so anytime soon, so I lean against the doorway. I want, so much, to hold this over them.

“I hear I’m an exception to your ‘kill on sight’ rule,” I say instead. I don’t know how many of those little robots are equipped with weapons. Once again: I’m not about to lose a body part today.

“Ugh.” They close their eyes and fall limp against the porcelain. “Don’t pretend you thought you’d be in danger.”

“Hm.” I slide down to their level and cross my arms on my legs. “I guess I know why you’ve been so quiet now.”

“It’s just the flu,” they mutter resentfully without moving. “What do you want? I doubt you came here because you’re worried.”

“And if I said I was?”

They laugh under their breath. “I wouldn’t fucking believe you. Out with it.”

I don’t answer right away.

This can’t be new, the whole sick thing. There hasn’t been any word of them for a couple weeks, and I can’t deny I was starting to genuinely worry. They’re one of the ones I miss, even if they were the reason I took on the whole hero job. Maybe especially because of that.

“I have a lead on Tchaikovsky.”

They lift their head and I actually get a look at how sick they are. Out of the shadows, the heat of fever colors their face. A stomach turning crust lines both their nostrils and their mouth. It even takes them a few seconds to actually focus on me, though their gaze is as calculating as I remember.

“Don’t look at me like that,” they growl. They try to detach from the toilet, but the second they move they grimace and lurch back to gag into the bowl.

“Do you not have flu shots around here or what?” I turn my eyes on a little robot wheeling into the room with a bottle of water. “I didn’t think you _could_ get sick.”

They grumble out a mocking shape of my words and accept the water from the insistently beeping contraption. After a few long drinks, they try again. “I couldn’t. It’s a long story.”

I give them a hand up and only let go when I’m confident they aren’t about to keel over. A little closer than usual, I follow them back into the office.

Where, of course, they take their seat behind the disaster of a desk. They gesture for me to sit across from them, and I do. I don’t even comment on how being sick ruins their poised, official _look_. Really, that’s good behavior.

“Tell me—” Jay sweeps the mess from the surface to reveal a sleek touchscreen. It lights up under their touch, but they keep their tired gaze on me. “—about this lead.”


End file.
